Outside it's a sunny, lovely day in South East London.
Inside, it's a tad bleak I'm afraid.
I've just had the call from Thunderbirds and there is no bed.
Everyday I build myself up, hoping and hoping and hoping that a bed becomes available and so far everyday I have been gutted, disappointed and upset. It is draining, wearing and I am weary.
There is literally nothing anyone can do - apart from the person who is in "John's bed" at Lewisham Hospital. Unfortunately, they have one of two things to do....get well and leave ITU or...........
Everyone is being so lovely, calling/emailing/checking on me/cooking meals, popping in, etc, etc (although I am bloody crap company!).
I know I have to be strong for John, of that I am and always will be, but being strong for me is proving less than easy.
My mind is shot to pieces. I have irrational mood swings.
My head is all over the place and I feel as though I am going stir crazy. My stomach is constantly in knots and I always feel sick.
I'm really trying to maintain a positive mind. This is increasingly difficult the longer he is not here in the UK.
I feel such 'guilt' that I am here, in the flat, with the dogs, in familiar surroundings while he is still in Germany.
I should be with him, holding his hand, mopping his brow, comforting and reassuring him. Deep down, I am bone achingly sad. Everywhere I look and everything I see/touch here is 'him'.
This is as much a comfort as it is a 'curse'.
I would give anything on this earth to speak with him. I haven't heard his voice for a month. A proper kiss, a hug, a cuddle.
I need him.
I miss him.
So, as John is not coming home tomorrow I shall return to work - something I look forward to and dread in equal measure.
I have nothing else to say today.